


A Strike or Two

by providentialeyes



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Non-Binary Jaskier, Other, Pre-Relationship, Sharing a Bed, They both have nightmares, Touch-Starved, it's trans day fuck it, just because they fuck everyone doesn't mean they aren't starved for genuine affection, mostly tv based?, rating will be justified soon lmao
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:53:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23423485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/providentialeyes/pseuds/providentialeyes
Summary: "Come here," Geralt mutters and scoots to the side of the bed.Jaskier straightens, rigid, startled."What?" The younger asks sharply."Come here.""Why?""To rest, bard.""Yeah, yeah, sure, but why?"
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 2
Kudos: 52





	A Strike or Two

**Author's Note:**

> hdsjk hi, i've been skirting around this fandom because it's large and kinda scary but i really like this ship so here i am anyway.   
> jaskier is afab non binary, this will be intensely relevant come the inevitable sex scenes   
> jaskier is mostly tv jaskier and geralt is kinda a mix of witcher 3 and tv   
> looks wise though, they're both their tv versions with the exception that geralt has the cat eyes

"Nightmare?" Jaskier asks from across the room and Geralt's so out of it he hadn't even realized the younger was awake. 

Geralt grunts, tries to make it neutral, just a sound of acknowledgment, but Jaskier hums knowingly.

Geralt feels the minimal urge to strangle the bard, throw him out, _something..._

Exhaustion keeps him in place, has him taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

"Would you care to talk about it?" Jaskier asks then immediately clicks his tongue, "Mm, no, of course not. Ignore me."

"Easier if you were quiet," Geralt grumbles and suppresses a yawn, blinking hard and stretching subtly. 

"Well, yes," Jaskier rolls his eyes, Geralt can hear it in the tone, not even glancing at the younger, "But with most, it's polite to offer some effort to comfort them after they wake from unknown horrors of the subconscious."

Geralt closes his eyes again and slides his hand to the side, the rough pad of his finger catching over the threads of the woven sheet below him.

It's a small bit of grounding, solidifying him in the here and now, not whatever the hell his mind had decided to torture him with while he was attempting to rest.

"Then again, you're not most people," Jaskier says wryly and Geralt hears cinder pops and the grating screech of iron rubbing iron as the younger stokes the fire.

"Why are you awake?" Geralt growls bringing a hand up to rub his aching head. 

"Oh," Jaskier murmurs and Geralt's slight taken aback by the suddenly sorrowful tone, "Couldn't sleep."

"... Nightmare?"

"Hm," Jaskier grunts in a blatant mimicry of the older man.

It almost draws a huff of laughter from Geralt but he refrains, turning his head to look across the room.

"Time?"

"Near dawn or so..." Jaskier says uncertainly and it solidifies the idea that the younger has been awake long enough to be unaware of time's passage. 

Geralt eyes the younger up and down, the slouch in the chair, chin propped on hand for once in need of support, not coquettish mockery. 

Eyes sleepy, heavy, empty. 

"Come here," Geralt mutters and scoots to the side of the bed.

Jaskier straightens, rigid, startled.

"What?" The younger asks sharply.

"Come here."

"Why?"

"To rest, bard."

"Yeah, yeah, sure but _why?"_

Geralt sighs and turns onto his side with a possibly more-dramatic-than-necessary flick of the covers.

"Wait, are you serious?" Jaskier asks, voice getting closer and Geralt can picture the younger standing at the side of the bed, half leaning in and half preparing to flee if needed.

Never certain of Geralt's goodwill. 

"Keep talking and I'll take it back."

"Oh!" Jaskier whispers sharply then there's a frigid pause, silent and still.

The bed shifts, the dip of Jaskier kneeling behind him.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," Jaskier mutters and continues to mumble apologies until he's laying down stiffly next to the older man.

"Done?"

"Ah… Yes?"

Geralt grunts, turns onto his back and shifts the covers pointedly, offering half of them to Jaskier. 

"Oh," Jaskier whispers and Geralt peeks one eye open to see the younger's slender fingers curl around the edge of the sheet, "Thanks."

"Mm," Geralt closes his eye again and sighs quietly, "Sleep."

\--

After roughly an hour, two things become clear. 

It is not 'nearly dawn' and neither of them can sleep. 

"Is it the storm for you too?" Jaskier whispers, having turned onto his stomach, face pillows on his bent arm.

Geralt grumbles quietly and turns over to face the younger. 

"Is that your problem? Rain?"

He can see Jaskier though he knows the younger can't see him.

See Jaskier's eyes darting side to side in the dark, searching, nervous.

Lips pressed firmly together in indecision.

"Well, no, not the rain," Jaskier says after a moment, "Just… The thunder, lightning, wind, you know? Every other part of the storm. The lightning… Particularly."

"A strike or two won't kill you."

"Ah, but, say it struck the thatch on the roof!" Jaskier whispers dramatically, artificial enthusiasm only barely masking the fear, "Perhaps the whole building would burn."

"Hm."

"Yes, yes," Jaskier sighs dramatically and flops onto his back, stretching his arms up the headboard, "Of course you don't fear fire."

"I didn't say that."

"You don't fear much of anything, really." Jaskier powers on, "How dare I imagine the great Gwyn Blaidd fearing something so trivial as fire?"

"Jaskier," Geralt says lowly. 

"... Sorry," Jaskier huffs and the pent up frustration is expelled in a flick of Jaskier's hand toward the window, where the glass is flexing and the hinges groaning against the wind, "Hate that."

"Ignore it."

"Good lord, Geralt," Jaskier rubs his hands over his eyes roughly.

"Focus on something else."

"Like what? A nice melody? The patrons didn't give the impression they'd be particularly welcoming of an early morning serenade."

"Me."

"You?" Jaskier laughs.

Geralt scowls at the younger in the dark and thinks it over. 

"I can't even see _you,_ Geralt, how am I supposed to focus on you?"

Geralt hesitates, then glances down and moves his arm to press against Jaskier's. 

The younger flinches sharply, freezing up. 

"There," Geralt mutters, "Focus on that."

Jaskier falls quiet, and it's only the younger's soft, slightly shaky breathing that has Geralt certain the younger is still alive. 

Didn't die of shock.

He rolls his eyes and settles down, waiting to Jaskier to follow suit. 


End file.
